The sunny Desmunt mansion.

Darbave planted colorful flowers in the yard and smiled with satisfaction.

Darbave held a hoe in his hand and wiped away the sweat dripping down his forehead.

It wasn’t something the head of a prestigious family should be holding, but Darbave felt good being able to decorate the mansion with his own hands.

Was it because he was getting old?

These days, Darbave appreciated beautiful things.

“Wonderful.”

“…”

“It’s best to do it yourself.”

“…”

“I planted it with my own hands, but the color combination …